


In the Tide

by molly16



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, super brief mention of other chracters, tonight's episode inspired me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molly16/pseuds/molly16
Summary: Ellick bickering while they're being held hostage, so normal NCIS stuff.





	In the Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight's episode made me start shipping Ellick hard. Like hit me like a freight train hard. Also, it's late so ignore any typos that I probably made.

“I swear to god Nick, this thing better not blow up.” Bishop tries to keep her eyes steady on the entrance, but with a cocky partner behind her diffusing a bomb, it’s easier said than done.

“Relax.” There’s a snip, and Bishop winces. “Plus it’s easier when you’re not talking, or watching.” A few snips later, and Torres is standing above the bomb like some kind of hero (which he is, but Bishop would never admit that). Coming up next to Bishop, he asks the million dollar question, “Come up with a way to get us out of here yet?”

Breaking her eyes away from where she was trying to burn a hole through, she replies, “No. God it’s so frustrating, you know?” Sitting down across from the now diffused death bomb, she continues, “Normally, I’m the one that can come up with how to get out of places. I’m the analyst for god’s sake! This is literally my job description.”

“What? Being held hostage? They were that up front with you?” 

Bishop gives Torres a look, letting him know the joke didn’t quite stick the landing. “I’m serious. I’ve been at NCIS way too long.”

“Woah woah. Easy there.” Making a point of making himself comfortable on the ground, Torres nudges Bishop slightly. “You can’t go anywhere else. Mainly because nobody likes NCIS, but we like you now.”

Bishop turns to him, slightly offended. “Hold on. I came first. I was already part of the team. Jury’s still out on you.”

“Come on, everyone loves me. Even Gibbs is warming up to me. Sure he still pronounces my name wrong, but whatever.”

“Vance doesn’t love you. Not after that stunt you pulled last week.”

A bang comes from outside the entrance, silencing their conversation almost immediately. They both snap back up on their feet, ready for whatever--or whoever comes through that door. Bishop whispers across the small room, “If I die, I’m haunting your ass.”

“Ditto.” 

There’s another gunshot, quickly followed by about three more if Bishop had to testify. Torres would say it was four, but one of the middle ones definitely could have been an echo. Tightening their holds on the pieces of metal they had managed to find, they’re both ready to attack. When the doors open, they’re greeted by bullet proof vests with NCIS and FBI written boldly across them. 

After they tell the director everything that happened that led to them being held hostage (everything that could go wrong did go wrong), watched Gibbs interrogate the asshole that was holding them hostage, and filled out the bare minimum amount of paperwork they could get by with, Bishop and Torres decide to call it a night earlier than usual. While they’re waiting for the elevator, Bishop says, “I thought you said nobody liked NCIS.”

“Well, Fornell does but only because him and Gibbs probably owe each other like twenty years worth of favors.” Stepping into the elevator, Torres adds, “And it’s only Fornell. That’s not all of the FBI.”

“But it’s enough.”

“But it’s not the entire agency.”

“Mmmm, how you said it made it sound like nobody in any agency liked us. And Reeves is MI6 and he likes us!”

“He’s forced to. That’s literally his job.”

“He just has to work with us, he doesn’t have to like us.”

Torres hitches his backpack up further on his shoulder. “If I buy you a drink will you drop it?”

“Two might seal the deal.”

“Fine.” Torres turns back towards the elevator doors. “But you’re dropping it now, on the promise of two drinks.”


End file.
